


No More Mister Nice Guy

by Dragonlingdar



Category: Mario Kart 8, Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros.
Genre: Dubious Morality, Gen, Sibling Rivalry, evil is a point of view, luigi death stare meme, luigi is tired of your shit, mario is a douche, mario kart fanfiction, one-sided hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/pseuds/Dragonlingdar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luigi is tired of being relegated to Mario's shadow.  But, trying to make an identity for himself in the public consciousness promises to be more difficult than he thought...</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Mister Nice Guy

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know how this happened. I've always liked Luigi more, and after watching the youtube video "Why Mario is Mental," realizing that I missed the whole "Year of Luigi" thing, and the becoming obsessed with the Death Stare meme, I decided I had to contribute Luigi fanfiction. You must pardon if he does not appear to fit his canon personality--we all have shadows, and I think Luigi has done better than most in suppressing his ( you should really look up the description of his Final Smash in Super Smash Brothers Brawl)  
> Thank you for reading!

Luigi drummed his fingers against his arm and stared out at the racetrack.

The first races were to begin the next day, and he was looking forward to them, perhaps more than he ought. To him, they represented an opportunity, a chance to show that he wasn’t _just_ Mario’s brother, that he wasn’t _just_ Daisy’s boyfriend, that he wasn’t _just_ anything.

Luigi took the keys to his kart out of one of his pockets and turned them over slowly between his fingers.

He was tired of being Player-2, of being in his brother’s shadow, of being overlooked.

_But, how do I change that...?_ Luigi wondered, the weight of his brother's legend weighing on him.

They were the _Mario_ brothers, not the _Luigi_ brothers.

Everyone knew of the romance between Mario and Princess Peach, and it was a given that Mario would one day be a king when Peach ascended to Queen.

But, him? Luigi? He was only partly a hero, a hero by association. His relationship with Daisy would last only until someone like _Mario_ came along to sweep her off her feet and far away from Luigi.

Everyone knew _of_ him, but very few people could actually claim that they knew Luigi for Luigi. It was unfair to be delegated to second-fiddle when he hadn’t been able to prove himself in any meaningful way in the first place. Time and again he asked, _begged_ , Mario to let him come along, but he was always turned away.

“It’s too dangerous,” Mario would tell him with an infuriatingly charming smile. In those three innocuous words were a whole host of meanings that Luigi finally, _finally,_ saw.

Luigi had first perceived it as brotherly concern, as love. Mario wanted to protect him, of course he did. Mario had experience saving the Mushroom Kingdom; Luigi did not. Everything he did was for Luigi’s benefit and for the benefit of _everyone_ in the Kingdom.

Now, Luigi knew differently. Now, he knew what Mario really meant.

“Don’t steal my thunder.”

“I don’t want people to see that you’re just as heroic as me.”

“You’ll only get in my way.”

And, perhaps worst of all: “I don’t love you enough to include you in my life.”

Luigi’s hand clamped down around his keys and he let out a long, slow breath.

_I will not be number 2 any longer_ , Luigi resolved.  _I_ will _find a way to make people recognize me as_ me _and not as Mario's younger brother._

The Luigi that his friends and brother would meet on the track the next day would not be the Luigi they expected. He was out to _win_ , and if that meant that he had to sacrifice anyone who got in his way...so be it.  What had being a “nice guy” gotten him anyway?

Nothing except an eternal spot in Mario’s shadow.

Luigi pocketed his keys and walked towards the stalls where all the karts were kept.

_Tomorrow, everything is going to change,_ Luigi thought grimly, his stomach churning in both anticipation and terror. Luigi ran a hand over the gleaming curves of his own kart, marked visibly with an _L_. His eyes narrowed and he hissed through clenched teeth when he detected the faint impression of an _M_ —of course his kart was one of Mario’s cast-offs, one he didn’t want. Luigi always got the hand-me-downs; he had very little that he could claim as his own.

Luigi felt a hot surge of an emotion he couldn't name, and he glared at Mario’s kart, which was parked right beside his own.

As his blood pounded in his ears, as his body tingled with the strength of the emotion he had suppressed for so long, Luigi promised himself:

_Mario won’t know what hit him._


End file.
